


Separate Ways

by GalacticTwink



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Healing, Angst, Brotherly Love, Dean is a Little Shit, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt Sam Winchester, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Light Angst, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not in a Weird Way - Freeform, Not really romantic, Other, Poor Life Choices, Poor Sam, Poor Sam Winchester, Scars, Season/Series 05, Self Confidence Issues, Short & Sweet, Tattoos, not graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-19 03:52:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalacticTwink/pseuds/GalacticTwink
Summary: Sam suggested they go their separate ways, but he didn't think Dean would agree with him.He's alone, and he calls someone he wants to see when everything is falling apart around him.





	Separate Ways

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea when I was rewatching season 5 (S5E3 i think?) and I'm a slut for Sasstiel

    “Maybe it's best we just go our separate ways. Sam lets out a deep breath, heart thudding in his chest. Before the words are even out he regrets it. What if this doesn’t go how Sam thinks it will? What if Dean agrees with him? But then, what if he doesn’t? Sam doesn’t think he has it in him to fight his brother about this.He doesn’t want to let Dean out of his sight let alone-

    “Well, I think you’re right.” oh. His heart drops to his stomach. Why does this feel like a breakup? They’re brothers, they shouldn’t be so attached at the hip anyway. This shouldn’t hurt so much.

    “I was expecting a fight.” he chokes, passing it off as a laugh. Dean doesn’t notice.

    “Truth is, I spend more time worrying about you than about doing the job right.  
I just I can't afford that, you know? Not now.” of course. He’s just a liability, and now he’s useless on top of it all. He can’t even do self-sacrifice right can he?

    “I’m sorry, Dean.” Sam’s throat feels dry, like half a container of salt just got poured into his mouth.. Again.

    “I know you are Sam.” his brother sighs, looking away from Sam and rubbing his hand over his face.

    “Hey, uh- you want to take the Impala?” god, yes. If he’s walking away from his brother, he doesn’t have anything of his to hold onto.

    “That’s okay.” Sam;s eyes level at his brother’s breast, where he usually looks for reassurance. But it isn’t there, off somewhere with Castiel while he looks for something impossible.He didn’t realise how much it meant to see Dean wear it every day.

    “Take care of yourself, Dean.” he gets up, turning before Dean can meet his eyes. He doesn’t remember this guy’s name, but he has a truck and he’s leaving so Sam snags a ride from him. He didn’t catch where they were going, but as long as it isn’t here it doesn’t matter. He rests his forehead against the window, closing his eyes and waking up with a red splotch on half his face. They’ve stopped at a little, one motel town to fill up the truck.

    “Hey, I’m stopping off here. Thanks.” Sam offers the guy the cash he has on him but is waved off, ushering him away with a word of good luck. The sun is low in the sky, dipping under the horizon behind Sam as he pushes open the smudged door of the one floor motel. He pays for a night with cash and struggles to jam the key into his door, collapsing down on the bed with a sigh. He should check for bugs or stains but he could care less right now.

    “God..” he breathes. What did he do? What the fuck did he do? Tears prick at Sam’s eyes, clogging his sinuses and blurring his vision. He could have worked it out, he could’ve done.. Something. No. He couldn’t. Dean trusted him and he did so much shit when his brother needed him. Family is supposed to help family, not abandon each other for demons.

    “I’m the worst.” Sam rubs his hand over his face, banishing any tears that escaped from his skin. No one is here to see him cry, but he still can’t stand to do it.

    “Don’t cry, Sammy, you’re too old to cry.” he quotes his brother, something Dean said to him upwards from when he was around seven. But it’s true, Sam used to pride himself in being in tune with his emotions but maybe it’s too much. He cries too much. Like this, a few years back Sam didn’t even want to go with Dean; and now here he is crying over his brother moving on. But being without Dean.. He doesn’t even have Ruby this time. She was a snake in the end, but she kept him from downright killing himself so many times. Sam sheds his shirt, tracing his anti-possession tattoo carefully with his finger. It isn’t his only one, but something that was a necessity at the time means more to him than it should now. He and Dean got them together, in the same place, like a stupid couples tattoo. He picks his cell out of his pocket, clicking down his short contact list and back up a few times. He really shouldn’t. The line barely rings twice.

    “Hello?” words die in his throat. Why did he call? He doesn’t even have anything to say, it’s just..

    “Sam? Are you alright?” the gravelly voice on the other end seems to get closer, getting clearer as he presumably moves somewhere with better reception.

    “Hey.” Sam’s voice breaks. God damn it.

    “Are you injured? Where is your brother?”

    “No- Cas, I’m fine. Y’know I-I really don’t know why I called it’s just.. Nothing, it’s nothing.” he runs his fingers through his hair, pulling out a few strands and shaking them out onto the floor. The other line is silent, left not sure why to say. Sam panics and hangs up, tossing the phone onto his nightstand and flopping back down onto the bed. He’s a disastair. Sam has never done well on his own, everything works out better with someone else around to keep him sane. Not that he isn’t sane, it’s just.. Well, maybe he’s a little not sane, he _is_ a Winchester.

    “Sam?” his hand snaps to his hip, tumbling off the bed and on the ground trying to unholster his gun and lift it up towards..

    “Cas?” the angel is standing in the middle of his room, scanning his surroundings while Sam scrambles up to his feet.

    “Where is Dean?” Sam shrugs.

    “Hell if I know.” he gestures vaguely, “he could be halfway across the world by now.” Cas’s brows furrow together, confusion dancing across his face as he puts the pieces together. Sam is actually surprised Dean didn’t already call him to be his new brother.

    “You are not together then.” no shit, Sherlock. Sam turns on a light, sitting with his back to his headboard and waiting for Cas to move at all. The angel is just looking at him, eyes fixed on the Winchester as he shifts awkwardly.

    “It’s rude to stare y’know.” the other man doesn’t waver, but does clamor to sit down beside Sam. They just look at each other.

    “Dean and I decided to go our own ways. I suggested it in the first place but I didn’t think- I don’t know how I didn’t. He doesn’t need me anyway, and without hyping myself back up on demon blood I’m pretty useless. I was just getting in the way. After what I did- I’m surprised he didn’t kill me.” he wouldn’t put it past Dean, brothers or not if Sam is in the way he fears for his life; just like how it was with their dad.

    “Why do you say that? You are a far better hunter than Dean, you know.” Sam snorts. Great, now even the angel is making fun of him.

    “You don’t have to say that.” Cas frowns at him, reaching out to touch him but Sam moves away until there’s nowhere else to go. The angel touches him, fingers dancing across his skin gently. They’re warm, and make Sam feel a tingle just under the skin. He jerks back.

    “Why do you do that? You are far bigger than me, Sam, yet I could conclude that you fear me.” his eyes, his tone of voice, everything about him looks so gentle. So soft. But it’s a deception, and one that Sam can’t let himself fall for.

    “You’ve seen more battles than the Earth has years, Cas. It would be an insult not to know that you could kill me a dozen times in the time it takes me to breathe once. And that’s now, without all your powers.” he considers that, giving Sam a strange look.

    “You have seen your fair share as well.” the angel touches him again, gliding his fingers up along Sam’s inner wrist across the ridges and bumps there.

    “That’s mean Cas.” he feels exposed now. He thought that of anyone, the angel wouldn’t mention his abundance of scars. The other man doesn’t stop, dragging his fingertips up Sam’s bicep to his shoulder where he pauses.

    “What is..?” oh, great. Sam laughs bitterly.

    “A tattoo. I guess it was the wrong choice, huh?” he shifts, scooting forward and turning his back towards Cas; spreading out his arms so the angel can see his mistake in all its glory. Angel wings spread across the expanse of his back, tips extending out to his shoulders and down onto his lower back. He’s a walking piece of irony. Vessel of Lucifer and he already has angel wings; those are the only ones he’s ever going to get.

    “They’re..” here it comes, “lovely.” oh. Figures.

    “Well, I figured that if I was going to kill myself I might as well get something. Cuz I’m sure as shit not getting into Heaven.” Cas brushes his hand through Sam’s hair, pushing it aside and laying his fingers across the hunter’s forehead. He feels a rush, like fresh spring air after a lifetime in a dark basement; like coming out of winter and feeling the sun on your face for the first time in months. Like getting home after a funeral, eyelashes still wet, and hearing someone you love crack a joke. The room gets just a little brighter, and Sam can feel stresses and tension lifting off his shoulders. It feels _awful_.

    “Stop.” Cas takes his hand away, Sam’s head settling but not in as dark a place as it was moments ago. The angel looks confused.

    “I don’t want you to brainwash me. If I’m going to be happy, I’ll get there myself. I don’t need any divine intervention.”

    “I did not brainwash you. I wanted to heal you.”

    “You can’t heal a broken heart Cas.” he considers that. Slowly the angel moves to sit beside Sam, his arms sliding around the larger man and nestling against the other’s chest. Sam sits there in stunned silence.

    “Your brother has decided to move on, Sam. Perhaps you should learn to do the same. If he doesn't want you, it is his loss, not yours.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Separate Ways](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18340574) by [universe_podfics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/universe_podfics/pseuds/universe_podfics)




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